


Let the Light In

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Grief/Mourning, Old Age, Reader-Insert, loss of a loved one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Let the Light In

As you walked into the apartment, you dropped your bag at the door, wondering how you were supposed to get rid of this sinking feeling - the one that brought you down to the floor and through it, crashing you through each layer of earth without a care for your pain.

What the hell were you supposed to do without him?

“Grandpa…”

Spencer heard your plea to the heavens. One word you’d barely been able to utter because to say it out loud meant that you couldn’t sit by his side and read with him anymore. You couldn’t see his gummy smile. “Spence, I…”

Your boyfriend slipped wordlessly to your side and held your head close to his chest. The only thing keeping you sane was the steadiness of his own heartbeat. 

Ever since you were a kid, he had been your world. His little one that lit up his life. Grandma was gone shortly after you were born, but he had you. 

You’re the reason I’m still here. Grandma wanted me to watch you grow.

If that was true then why did he have to go? Why did he have to leave you now? You were still growing - still had so many milestones to pass, like getting married and having a family of your own and he was never going to get to see them. Smacking Spencer lightly on the chest, you sobbed. “Why did he have to leave me?”

You knew why. But it still wasn’t fucking fair. Your relationship with your parents was perfectly fine, but grandpa was your world. In school, you kept your grades up to impress him. You made sure he approved of all your friends and significant others before even your mother and father. During work, knowing you’d see him was what got you through the week - and now we was gone.

“Spence, it’s barely been four days and it feels like years.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her and started running his hands through her hair, but she pulled away. “Sorry, I just…everything is overwhelming. I have such a headache. God, my head is pounding.” You grabbed your head and bent over, resting your head on the kitchen counter and willing the world to go back to the way it was.

“It’s because you’ve been crying,” Spencer said softly. You knew that, and the fact that he was saying as much made you salty as hell, but you also didn’t have the heart to snap at him. He was trying to help. Even the sound of running water was hurting your head though. “Here. Drink this. You’re dehydrated.”

You lifted your head up against the harsh lights of the apartment and grabbed the glass from his hand, downing it quickly before walking over to the couch and plopping down unceremoniously. Spencer followed behind and draped his coat over the back of the couch before joining you and thankfully sitting in silence for a while.

Wallowing wasn’t going to do any good, but you deserved a little bit of time to pity yourself. The windows were closed, light begging to shine through but being pushed away by the slats of the blinds. Maybe it was a metaphor for grandpa; he wouldn’t want you crying over him, but your heart wouldn’t allow the light in just yet. 

For nearly an hour and a half, Spencer lightly stroked your hair as you cried. It wasn’t even active crying, just tears falling from your eyes without any work on your part. 

“Thank you, Spence. For just being here.”

He whispered and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Of course. Now I’m going to get you another glass of water and then we’re going to do something.”

You didn’t want to do anything. Your eyes hurt, your throat was sore - every movement felt like sandpaper. But you took the second glass of water from Spencer and finished it just as quickly as before. 

“What was your favorite thing to do with him?” He asked, smiling softly. He knew what it was, but he wanted you to think about him and remember him fondly - not with sadness in your heart.

As you pushed up to allow him to sit back down, you transported yourself to his house and his own couch, where you’d sit and listen to his record player while playing a crossword puzzle together. The memory carried you away like a wave returning from the shore - like it was going home. “Listen to music and do a crossword puzzle.”

“Then that’s what we’re going to do.” Again, he got up from the couch, moving swiftly over to the window to open them slightly. You still had a headache so he didn’t open them up all the way, but it was better for your mindset to have a little of the light shine through. 

Before he slipped into your bedroom, he grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and placed it on the back of your neck. You were so tense from crying over the past couple days that your muscles needed to relax. Just a few minutes later, he emerged from the bedroom with a record player, a few of your grandpa’s favorite records (copies of course), and a book of crossword puzzles. “You and I are going to listen to some Glenn Miller and Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra and do a couple of puzzles together. Because that’s what he would’ve wanted.”

The idea of doing something like this felt equal parts terrifying and comforting. Without him, it felt wrong, but it also felt like a way to be closer to him. “I might cry.”

“That’s okay,” he whispered, moving a piece of your hair away from your eyes. “But he’d want you to let a little bit of the light in.”

That he would. As the sweet, sultry sounds of Ella Fitzgerald fluttered through the apartment, you glanced down at the crossword puzzle and leaned into Spencer’s chest, watching as the light from the window lit up a sliver of the puzzle book. Slowly, you’d allow the light back in, and when you did, there he’d be, smiling down on you.


End file.
